Through the Pensive
by PottersGoldenSnitch
Summary: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Daphne Greengrass visit the memories of their time traveler friend Evelyn Florence through Dumbledore's pensive the day after the Second Wizarding War. They watch the life of Tom Riddle before he becomes rises to power, his mistakes, and his relationship with their friend Evelyn.T for minor language... Tom Riddle/OC Chp 11 is now up!
1. Chapter 1 - The End

**This is my (reckless) attempt at a Tom Riddle fanfiction...and no this is not a Mary Sue.**

**Do I honestly need a disclaimer for this? Fine. I do not own the HP series or any characters nor part of the plot. I only own my lovely stupid brave ignorant Evelyn.**

**Oh the second chapter should be up in a day or two's time, maybe even today.**

**Oh the italics (aside from and summary and ****spells) are side notes so this story might make a whole lot more sense if you read them...but the summary is always pointless so whatever suits you. Oh and I do kind of get a little off topic in the side notes but that's only side notes and summaries my stories do not involve anything about the little mermaid.**

* * *

_**So summaries...first of all, please do give my story a chance if you've already clicked here I do suck a "mysterious attention grabbing truthful summaries." Okay so basically... The day after the war, Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Daphne Greengrass discover that Evelyn Florence is a *spoiler alert* time traveler. No one except she and a few other wizards knew of this. Time travelers are immortal unless they are killed or choose to die. They can't die of old age or sickness. If they do die of old age or sickness, they are simply transported at random to any other time period. But if they are killed or choose death, they're gone, as in they can not go **_**on_ or become a ghost. They are simply non existent in any form anywhere. The browse through many of her memories, and discover a whole lot about Tom Riddle Jr.'s life at Hogwarts and how Dumbledore lied to Harry when he told Harry "Voldemort cannot love." In this chapter they meet again for the first time since Riddle's 5th year and it fairs_ well_ for both of them__ (oh come on you know this is a Tom Riddle love fanfiction don't say I spoiled anything you know it)._**

* * *

It seemed to happen in slow motion. As soon as Bellatrix gave that same mad, cackling laugh that her cousin had before falling into the veil, Harry knew what was going to happen moments before it did.

He watched as Molly Weasley's curse hit Bellatrix squarely in the chest; watched as she fell, her last laugh still echoed on her face.

He watched as McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn flew back from Voldemort, whose fury exploded like a bomb as his last, his most loyal servant fell.

Voldemort turned slowly to face Molly Weasley, cold hatred etched on his pale, snake like face. The Dark Lord raised his wand, ready to destroy to one who has destroyed his most faithful supporter.

"PROTEGO." Harry threw off his cloak; his wand held high. Whispers of "He's alive!" echoed around the wizards and witches lined up against the walls of the once glamorous great hall; attempting to put as much space between themselves and Voldemort as they could. Harry paid them no attention. They could celebrate once this war was won; if this war was won.

It was only then did Harry realize that he was not the only one who had cast the protection spell between Voldemort and Mrs. Weasley. There was another strip of silver; more radiant and thicker than his. For a brief second, Harry dared to take his eyes off of Voldemort to look for the other spell caster.

He spotted her standing in the doorway, dressed in her torn green robes and her wand raised. Harry recognized her as the Slytherin 7th year prefect, Evelyn Florence. She was barely injured compared to the rest of the student who had remained; only carrying a few stretches and a sealed gash on her right arm.

Whispers broke out in the great hall, no doubt asking why a Slytherin would be standing up to Voldemort. Harry's mind was too, filled with these thoughts.

"Potter," Evelyn Florence glanced at Harry, with the trace of a sad smile left on her face. "I can handle this."

The hall was silent now, not one person daring to breathe; not one person daring to speak.

"Evelyn no," shouted Harry, looking at her frantically, hoping she would save herself. "That's suicidal! You don't understand about…"

Harry trailed off, for Voldemort had his attention once more. Voldemort seemed to be in a daze. There was no hatred, no emotion etched on his face. He seemed to be lost...in some sort of way.

Harry heard a gasp from behind him. It was McGonagall. She was gripping Molly Weasley's arm tighter than tight; her eyes locked on the Slytherin girl and Voldemort. Harry could make out tears streaming down her face. He made sure Voldemort was still in his…daze before turning to the professor.

"Professor…" Harry began, looking for an answer to her sudden emotional breakdown.

She shook her head. "I never thought…" said McGonagall, unable to finish her sentence. It was a few seconds before she gathered herself and spoke again. "Potter, do not interfere."

At the far corner of the room, Harry saw Kingsley shake his head at Harry. He assumed this meant to stay put, which is what Harry did: back off, stay put, and observe. He didn't do it willingly, but because he suddenly found himself unable to move except for his head. It only took a few seconds for the realization to dawn on him; the girl had placed a body bind jinx on Harry. Evelyn nodded at Harry, which confirmed what he thought.

Glancing around, Harry realized that none of the others watching could move anything either. The girl was powerful, powerful enough to nonverbally cast a wandless spell upon hundreds of people.

The girl spoke first, in a ringing, sweet, yet powerful voice. "I warned you, Tom."

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. How could she have known that Voldemort was once Tom Riddle? And the way she spoke his name, it was as if she had uttered it thousands of times before. He met the eyes of Ron and Hermione, both who seemed as confused as he was.

"I do believe I was once foolish enough to consider your offer," said Voldemort; his voice still high and cold, but his expression, for once, was not pure hatred. "But here I stand, more powerful than you, less vulnerable than you."

Evelyn shook her head, smiling sadly. "I have told you, with great power comes great responsibility. Look at you, Tom. Look at what you have become!"

"I have become someone worthy of power!" Voldemort snarled.

All around the hall, people glanced around at one another. No one with the exception of McGonagall and Kingsley had the slightest idea of what was going on. From Harry's view, Draco Malfoy, Ron, and Hermione were somewhat in on the loop of the conversation, for Draco was holding a glass jar while Ron and Hermione were both muttering incantations. Ron's face was dripping in sweat, as they had to use nonverbal wandless spells.

It was a strange site for Harry to see, his two best friends working with his nemesis. Harry wanted to do whatever they were doing with them, but he couldn't. With Hermione there, they probably wouldn't need help.

So Harry turned his gaze back onto Voldemort and Evelyn.

There was now a lone tear sliding down Evelyn's cheek. "So be it, if that's how you see the world." said Evelyn, raising her wand. "_Tardus Imprecatio Extramaffectum_!" She cried.

At the same moment, Voldemort raised his wand and the spell which he uttered was not the usual killing curse, but the stunning spell. "_Stupify!_"

Harry and the other onlookers' faces were all coated in surprise. None of them had expected Voldemort to use the stunning spell. He was not merciful, Voldemort did not just simply let people live; Harry knew this.

What came after was even a greater shock to the crowd. The thread of silver and black light which had erupted from Evelyn's wand merged with the red jet of light from Voldemort's; instead of meeting as two spells would in a normal duel, The silver and black thread ate up the red jet of light, and the now grey jet of light shot back to Evelyn Florence and hit her squarely in the chest. Evelyn Florence, who made no move to defend herself.

She fell gracefully onto a kneeling position on the ground. Not one person dared to breathe in the hall. Everyone could hear Evelyn's slow, heavy breathing; could see her wince at every breath as if someone had cut her lungs open.

Harry wanted to run forward, somehow save her. He knew she was not yet dead, for the jinx she placed on him was still effective.

All eyes were on Voldemort as he circled the kneeling girl. "Foolish girl," said Voldemort, his voice had resumed its normal coldness, "I showed you mercy. You asked for a painful death."

Despite her pain, Evelyn managed to chuckle slightly. "Death is nothing to fear, Riddle," said the girl, coughing blood onto the already stained marble floor. "I am tired of living. And as for the painful part of that, I was not expecting to be stun. I can thank you for that, Tom."

Voldemort laughed his high cold laugh. "Silly girl. You are a fool, to believe that you are worth anything to the Dark Lord. Were you perhaps also hoping I would, ah, regret, my choice? "

She coughed once more, nonstop for a minute straight. By the time Evelyn stopped, the floor around her was drenched in red. "Yes, perhaps I was. Perhaps I was stupid, I am stupid, for coming here. I thought that you would be ... more ..." She glared at Voldemort in the eye. "I can see I was mistaken."

"You are a fool."

"I have noticed," said Evelyn, her voice, hoarse, yet still strong.

"You realize that you are gone for once and for all after death? That you cannot go _on?"_ Voldemort asked, his voice clearly now mocking her.

Evelyn closed her eyes for what seemed like hours before reopening then. "Do you realize you suffer the same fate?"

At this, Voldemort gave a high cruel laugh. "I? I shall not die. While you have less than till sunrise to live."

"If that is how you want to end this game, so be it."

Evelyn managed a painful smile at the crowd. Her gaze fell on Draco, another Slytherin girl, Hermione, Ron, and Kingsley. Draco and another Slytherin girl besides him were trying all they could to move the body bind and run forward. She gave them a nod, before turning to Harry and McGonagall. They watched while the girl came closer to death every second; unable to help.

At last, Evelyn looked into the eyes of Voldemort. "Do whatever," she said, in a hard emotionless voice.

Voldemort raised his wand, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

The body bind curses broke immediately, and Harry knew that Evelyn was either dead or to weak to sustain magic; Harry ran towards the center of the hall, towards Voldemort, while Hermione, Ron, Draco (who was still carrying the huge glass jar), and the other Slytherin girl sprinted towards the still form of Evelyn Florence.

The Dark Lord eyed the four students surrounding Evelyn's figure before turning to face Harry.

"Why the girl, Riddle?" asked Harry, as the two began circling each other.

Voldemort kept his gaze on Harry. "Did Dumbledore not tell you? Dumbledore never once mentioned the one time when his weapon, _love_, failed?"

Harry stared blankly at Voldemort, as did the rest of the great hall. Was Voldemort implying that he had once loved?

"The girl aside," Voldemort continued, "Who are you, Potter, going to sacrifice for your own life today?"

* * *

_The rest of the Harry/Voldemort confrontation goes exactly the way Jo Rowling wrote it in Deathly Hallows so you know how it ends. Honestly, I'm just to lazy to rewrite something that I have made no changes to what so ever. If you haven't read the Deathly Hallows...shame on you child, you are a disgrace. But honestly...if you haven't read (watched whatever personally I would find this a bit confusing if I had not read the books because you know) why the hell are you reading this?_

* * *

_Tardus Imprecatio Extramaffectum - means slow extreme reaction. Not a very good spell to use in a duel unless you want to kill yourself like poor Evelyn (she's been through a lot, you'll find out in the later chapters). I made it up (the spell, we're back to talking about the spell) It's kinda in latin so (I used google translate don't kill me). _

* * *

_Okay this is not going to be a happy disney ending (btw did you know in the original little mermaid Arial died without marrying the prince? shocker isn't it) but anyways, this is the end of living Tom Riddle and Evelyn Florence. They are still main characters, as Draco, Harry, Daphne(the other Slytherin girl, is Evelyn's best friend), Hermione, and Ron explore her memories. Ther be a short chapter somewhere near the end about Tom and Evelyn but maybe, maybe not. _

Hoped you liked this chapter! Please follow/review :) thank you. Constructive criticism is welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2 - New Friends

**Like I've promised ... update today, and here it is :)**

**I do not own anything except for Evelyn so...**

**Also I am currently working on the next chapter...so it will most likely be up later today or tomorrow afternoon. Wednesday at latest.**

* * *

Daphne Greengrass hugged her sister close to her, thanking the lord that Astoria was still alive and besides her. She wouldn't lose her sister, not after losing her best friend.

_Evelyn_. Her shoulders began to shake and her eyes started to water. Evelyn wasn't dead. Daphne refused to believe that Evelyn, with her powerful magic aura; her sparkling brown eyes; her great sense of humor, was dead.

Evelyn was never as shallow as the rest of them. She had always been careful, caring, but still adventurous in a way. It wasn't that Evelyn had never made mistakes. She had almost had her Prefect badge striped when she had took the chance to "charm" every word that came out of a Ravenclaw's mouth so that it came out as a swear word.

They had become more than friends. Not a couple, but almost like brother and sisters over the past year. They being Daphne, Evelyn, and Draco. It seemed as if they were the few in their house that cared about anything aside from fame or the Dark Arts.

Draco had just wanted this to end, it seemed. Daphne always observed him. He seemed scared of this world, but not completely able to bring himself to leave it. Daphne wondered what had happened to the boy that had existed just two years ago; one that was always eager to venture into this territory.

Daphne had learned from Evelyn about the wonders of life apart from heritage. Thinking back on it, Daphne felt like she was holding a match, thinking she could see the whole room.

"Let's go find Draco, Daph?"

Mentally, Daphne groaned. She hated, despised that voice. When she had been this ignorant girl, she had thought hanging out with Pansy Parkinson was the 'coolest' thing ever. It was only until her 5th year when she and Evelyn became close friends did she realize how much of a stuck up brat Pansy was.

She let go of her sister and laid her head on the table.

"No thanks," muttered Daphne, "Don't feel like it."

She half heard Pansy's rant, catching phrases here and there. "But he's Draco for … Daphne you can't just sulk….. Now that the crazy Florence is gone, we could hang around ….."

Daphne was trying her hardest to not slap her former friend in the face.

"Like honestly I don't even think she should've been in Slytherin that weak hearted ….. I would've been Prefect had it not been for her … and she apparently thought Draco was hers…. Glad she's dead."

Daphne's head snapped up. For a moment, Pansy smirked, as she always did when she had gotten her way, but the smirk slid off her face as soon as she saw the icy glare.

Pansy nervously tugged on Daphne's elbow. "Daphne, are you coming?"

"No. Leave me alone Pansy please."

Pansy huffed. "Fine then, if you're not in the mood. I guess I'll just ….." Pansy trailed off, whatever she had been about to say, forgotten.

"Draco! Over here!" Pansy beckon to the blonde hair boy sitting one table over.

Daphne glanced up at the approaching Draco. He didn't look well. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was still a bit swollen, and there was a scar running down his left cheek.

He nodded at Pansy, who giggled. "I have to go see mother," she announced, as if this were the wedding of the royals. "Bye Draco, later Greengrass."

Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne saw her sister roll her eyes.

Malfoy tapped Daphne's back. "You okay?" He whispered.

She nodded.

"Stop lying Daph," Draco shook his head. "None of us are."

"I'm fine!" said Daphne, through gritted teeth. No need to bring Draco in on her own emotional problems.

Draco smirked. "Keep telling yourself that Greengrass, one day you might actually believe it."

Daphne sighed, giving up on avoiding conversation, "Why are you here, Draco?"

"Well, I asked Potter about what he said on Professor Snape this morning."

This caught Daphne's interest. Snape had been a distant family friend, not to mention her favorite teacher and had been the Dark Lord's right hand man. What Potter said shocked her, as it did the rest of the crowd. She had almost forgotten about Evelyn for a moment.

"What did he say?"

"He told me he had something to show Granger and Weasley and that I should come to." He said with a shrug. "And to bring the memories we had collected from-" He suddenly broke off mid sentence.

Daphne did not need him to finish it. She knew. She had been by Evelyn's side as the life drained out of her; as the memories spilled from her friend's tears and blood. It had been Granger and Weasley that conjured the spell, to make the silver strands of memories come out more willingly. She and Draco had caught them, unsure of what to do with the sliver container that had automatically transformed itself into a gold flask.

And Daphne most certainly did not need a verbal reminder of last night, or this morning.

Outside, in the entrance hall, they spotted Granger, Potter, and Weasley leaning against the stairs, chatting with their faces carrying grim expressions.

Malfoy walked up to them; Daphne leaning on his shoulder. "Potter, Weasley, Granger."

He nodded at them.

They in turn nodded back. "Good to see you Malfoy," said Potter, eying Daphne curiously, "Is that…?"

"Absolutely not Potter!" the words forced their way out of Draco's mouth without him thinking.

On any normal day, Daphne would've been blushing redder than a tomato, but she was not in any mood to worry about what other people thought. Instead, another tear slid down.

Draco awkwardly patted her back.

"She and Evelyn were close," he said to the others, whose expressions cleared.

Harry shifted awkwardly, clearly not knowing how to act. "Um well should we head up to the er the pensive then?"

It was an odd sight, the three Gryffindors walking and chatting with their Slytherin rivals. But everything these days was a bit odd…how often do you get to defeat the darkest wizard in history?

The gargoyle let them pass, groaning a 'good morning.' It had been reduced to just a head sitting on top of white powder.

They didn't expect to see anyone inside the Headmistress headquarters. But as soon as the spiral staircase stopped, it became obvious that the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress were waiting for them by the pensive.

"Potter," began Professor McGonagall, "I was expecting you with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger, and while your appearance with Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Greengrass is indeed a pleasant surprise, may I ask why you are here?"

"I wanted to show them Professor Snape's thoughts," said Harry, "Do you mind if we use the pensive, Kingsley?"

"The pensive is yours to use Harry, but we need Snape's thoughts."

Ron, Malfoy, and Harry stared at the newly accounted Minister of Magic. "Why?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" Hermione shook her head. "Are they really that thick, needing this kind of proof?"

Kingsley chuckled. "I'm afraid so."

Harry reluctantly handed over the small silver bottle.

Kingsley caught it in on hand and stored it in a pocket. He glanced at his watch. " I must really get going, good bye."

They all watched as Kingsley disappeared out of sight, wondering what to do.

It was Harry who broke the silence, "Professor, I was wondering what you knew of the conversation Evelyn Florence and Voldemort had last night."

Daphne began to slightingly sob; Draco was attempting to comfort her. Harry's gaze stayed on McGonagall, who shook her head. Ron and Hermione sat awkwardly next to each other, waiting for McGonagall to speak.

"She had been through a lot, the poor girl," said McGonagall, her voice soft. "and they have forged a strong connection. That is all I can feel through her aura."

She turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfloy, I know you have the memories on you, Potter knows how to use a pensive. If you are all that curious on the past life of a fellow student, then observe the pensive."

With that, McGonagall stood and walked out of the office.

* * *

_Draco and Harry are getting along well because Draco well, grew up, and Harry was willing to forgive him _

* * *

**Please review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3 - Surprise

**Sorry this is two days late! The next chapter will be up on/before Monday (and won't be late). Enjoy...**

**I don't own Harry Potter end of story.**

* * *

Hermione stood next to Harry and Ron, staring down into the swirling white mist like substance inside the pensive. Harry had described his first time exploring someone else's memory before, but she was still not sure what to be looking for.

On the other side of the oval bowl, Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy stood, both sending confused stares towards Harry.

"Dump it into the pensive, Malfoy," Harry instructed, "And just stare at it."

Draco, for once in his life, did not question Harry Potter and did what he was asked. He took out the golden flask, why it had turned from a silver bottle into a gold flask on its own accord was still a mystery to Hermione. But it made no difference, as the memories storied inside was still the same; at least, she hoped they hadn't been changed.

"Just stare at it," said Harry.

Following Harry's instructions, they all stared down at the silver mixing with the white mist.

Hermione focused on nothing in particular, wondering what it was going to feel like.

Then, suddenly without any warning, she was falling. They were all falling. The fall lasted for a second only before they landed in the bedroom of a young girl.

The room was neat for a teenager; not a single piece of clothing on the floor, not a book out of place. The light brown wardrobe was standing next to the open door leading to a bathroom. The bookshelf in one corner next to the desk; the bed in the other.

The walls were a light shade of blue, and almost empty. Almost. Above the bed, stuck to the wall was a poster.

_**Hp7-It All Ends**_

_**7.15**_

The 'p' had a lightning strike for a tail, and the text was set in front of what looked like a burning castle. It looked strangely familiar to Hermione, but she couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was.

Sleeping in the bed was a much younger Evelyn. Hermione guess this girl couldn't be any younger than sixteen, which was only two years younger than the Evelyn that they knew. The Evelyn lying in front of them seemed dramatically different from the seventh year Slytherin prefect.

Physically, she was the same; not one thing was different from the girl they knew. But this girl was more relaxed her expression peaceful as she slept.

"I wish she would wake up," said Daphne, standing next to the bed, watching with a hopeful expression.

Harry was staring at the poster with a strange look on his face.

"What are you staring at Potter?" asked Draco, whose attention, too, had been on the sleeping girl.

Harry didn't answer, but continued to stare at the poster.

Ron walked next to Harry. "You okay there, mate?"

"Hermione," Harry began slowly, "Look at this."

Hermione glanced at the poster Harry was staring at. "It's just a muggle film poster, why?"

"I think…." Harry trailed off, unsure of how to put the next few words, "I think this is about me."

Draco snorted. "Of course, Potter. Everything's about you. The famous Harry Potter."

Ron sent Draco a threatening glare. "Shut up Malfoy."

"Oh stop it you two!" said Daphne, patting Draco on the arm. Hermione wondered when the girl had changed. Before, she was as much of a brat as Pansy Parkinson, but now, Daphne Greengrass was actually turning nice.

"Besides, I think Potter is right," continued Daphne.

Hermione peeked up from behind the book she had picked up off the desk. "Why?" she asked.

Daphne pointed at Evelyn's right wrist. "She's wearing a bracelet that says Potter's name on

Harry spun around on his heels, facing Daphne. "What?" He shouted.

Ron patted his best friend on the back. "Calm down mate, you're famous!"

Harry just shook his head, still wondering why there was a muggle film about the world. Apparently, Hermione had thought the same thing.

"This means that the muggles know everything," said Hermione in a soft whisper. "What do we do?"

Ron opened his mouth, about to suggest something; when they were interrupted by a girl flinging open the door.

She looked remarkably like Evelyn, except a little taller. Daphne gaped at the girl. "She never told me she had a sister," Daphne whispered.

"Well, it looks like that's not the only secret she's kept," said Harry, whose mind was still on the poster. "Besides, they can't hear or see you, no need to whisper."

Daphne nodded, still gaping at the girl now shaking Evelyn's shoulder.

"Lyn! Wake up we're gonna be late!" She yelled into Evelyn's year.

Evelyn jumped up and stared around dazed for a moment. "What?" she asked her sister. "Why did you do that? I was having the best dream."

The other girl humphed, "Well I'm so sorry Madam," said she, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But it seems that you have forgotten today was the Alan Rickman meet and greet."

Evelyn jumped up and stared frantically around the room. "Oh my god. Thank you Liz oh my god. TODAY!"

The last word came out as a excited shriek that almost broke Hermione's eardrums.

"Who's this Alan guy?" Ron glanced at Hermione, as if he expected her to know.

She shrugged.

"I know!" Evelyn's sister, Liz jumped around in excitement. "He was like the perfect Snape!"

. "But how do they know?" Ron asked in surprise, eying Harry, as if Harry somehow knew how and why the muggle world knew about Snape.

Harry was just as surprised as Ron and everyone else was.

The Evelyn of the memory jumped and squealed again. "Did you hear?" She asked her sister excitedly, "There's a rumor going around on Tumblr that Tom is going to be there as well!"

Harry blinked. Surely, she didn't mean Tom Riddle….

This time, it was Jess who screamed. "WHAT?" She slapped the wall. "Oh my god Tom Felton and Rickman … This is going to be the best day every oh god!"

Jess ran out of the door, telling her sister that they would have to leave in twenty minutes if they wanted to catch the 7 am train downtown.

Evelyn opened the door to her walk in closet, wanting to pick out a perfect outfit. She stepped in, not noticing anything wrong. She picked out a red Grucci summer dress.

Wasting that much money for clothe… Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Then, without warning, the floor of the closet gave away, and they were all falling. Hermione, Draco, Daphne, Ron, and Harry all gave a small shriek of surprise.

And Evelyn's ear piercing scream filled the air.

* * *

**Review/follow please :)**


	4. Chapter 4 - One Choice

**I'm sorry this is so short and took so long to update! Homework's been getting at me (especially physics Dr. Herms hates us all I swear). Anyways...this is it for now. Sorry :( And I am expecting to complete this story so :)**

* * *

Harry lost track of how long they were falling.

The fall took then all by surprise; no one was expecting anything weird to happen in a closet.

For what seemed like the first few minutes, Evelyn's screams and shouts for help filled the air. They died down after a while; apparently Evelyn had realized it was no use.

"What … is….going ….on?" Ron shouted, his voice being carried away by the wind rushing past their faces.

Harry almost felt as if his face was being peeled away. The air rushed past him, as if he was sticking his whole body out of a fast speeding train.

Draco shot a glare in Harry's direction, or rather, tried to. "Potter if this is your idea of a joke I swear…"

"It's not." Harry called to him as loud as he could. "I don't know what's going on!"

"Then how come you're the only one that's not worried?"

"It's just a memory." Harry said to Draco, "It's not going to do any harm to us!"

Ron looked slightly more … relaxed at this, but that did not stop him from shouting "Have you ever fallen for this long in a memory mate?"

Harry realized that he, in fact, hadn't experienced anything of this sort in the memories Dumbledore had shown him. He doubted he needed to answer Ron, for he and Hermione already been told of every detail of those long 'lessons' Dumbledore had given Harry.

Ron opened his mouth, about to say something when _thump._

They landed on the floor of an office that seemed to appear abruptly out of nowhere. There was a fireplace on one wall, on it a magical blue fire burned brightly. Two cushioned chairs faced the fire; both empty of any inhabitants.

The only other object in the room was a desk, on which sat stacks of papers and books. Behind it, a man with long hair was rummaging in a sliver laced rucksack.

He did not seem to be aware of the girl that had just fallen into his room, or whatever this was.

"Ah, good evening, Miss Florence." Said the man, still turned away from Evelyn.

Evelyn grabbed the first thing she could lay hands on; the tea cup and raised it; Harry assumed in self defense.

"Who are you? Where am I?" said Evelyn in a cold shaky voice. "How do you know who I am?"

The man merely chuckled. "One question at a time now, where should we start?"

Evelyn backed up against the opposite wall.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts."

Harry saw Evelyn's eyes widen with surprise, but then quickly narrowed in suspicion.

"No, you're not," she whispered.

Dumbledore, again, merely chuckled. "And how did you come to that conclusion, miss Florence?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Like you don't know," she said.

Dumbledore smiled warmly, then took a seat behind his desk. He took out a silver kettle and poured two cups of tea. "Sit down Evelyn, and let us discuss your theory on how I am not Albus Dumbledore."

Evelyn did not take a seat; but stood there, with her arms crossed. "Fine. Let me see…well, for one, you're not a transfiguration professor, but the headmaster. Also, no offense dude, but you're not old. And you're supposed to be dead. Plus I'm supposedly at Hogwarts, which makes no fucking sense what-so-ever, because as much as I want it to be real, Harry Potter is a god damn book series!"

Evelyn's voice had risen to a shout. Her face was red, from exhaustion or anger, Harry could not guess.

Dumbledore showed no sign annoyance during the whole of Evelyn's rant. When it became clear that the girl had finished shouting, Dumbledore tapped one of the tea cups.

The cup he tapped rose up steadily, with warm tea still sloshing around inside. If flew right up to Evelyn's nose. She grabbed the cup with a shaky hand, her mouth open in surprise.

The tea rose out of the cup and formed a miniature teapot in midair. Evelyn gave a small shriek.

"Madame Scarlett's best home grown tea leaves!" A high pitched voice rang out from the teapot made of tea, before it dived back into the cup Evelyn was still holding.

The girl gaped at the cup, then at Dumbledore. "What is going on?" She asked slowly, while again staring at the cup.

"I can explain everything to you," said Dumbledore in a comforting voice.

Evelyn gave a sigh of relief and then plopped down onto the chair opposite of Dumbledore.

"But first," Dumbledore continued. "You must choose."

"Between what?"

"Staying, or going home," answered the professor, gazing sadly at Evelyn, as if he thought she was about to drop dead.

Evelyn closed her eyes for a long minute, before looking with fascination at everything around her. There was a tear in her eye when she gave her answer.

"I'm staying."


	5. Chapter 5 - Explanation

**Chapter 5 is up! Thank you for the reviews and follows and favs :) Hope you enjoy this chapter and the next on should be up before next Wednesday.**

* * *

The scene blurred for a moment before refocusing. They still seemed to still be in Dumbledore's office on the same day. Evelyn was still sitting in the chair, her face showing excitement.

Dumbledore had looked slightly taken aback by her decision to stay. He folded his hands on the desk and for a second, the twinkle in his blue eyes seemed to disappear.

"This is … unexpected." Dumbledore muttered to himself.

Evelyn stared blankly at him.

"I'm sorry but what?"

"It's nothing to worry about Miss Florence," said Dumbledore, fixing Evelyn with his piercing blue eyes. Those same blue eyes that had once a many times pierced Harry that will never look at him in life again.

"Nothing to worry about?" Evelyn said as she gave a small laugh. "How can the great Albus Dumbledore not expecting something be nothing to worry about?"

"It is nothing," continued Dumbledore. "I merely thought you would have liked to return to your family instead of spending the rest of your life in this unstable world."

Evelyn leapt to her feet at these words. "What do you mean?" She asked in a shrieking voice. "I will never see my mum or Liz again?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It is not a decision I wish you to make, my dear child. I know the pains we as humans can go through."

_Because you've experienced them._ Harry thought bitterly. He was still, even after all this time, slightly annoyed at Dumbledore.

"I know you do, Dumbledore," said Evelyn. "What happens to my family if I stay?"

"You do not exist in their minds," answered Dumbledore. "In fact, they do not exist as of yet."

Harry watched the realization of something unknown to him seemed to dawn on Evelyn. She shook her head as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Why me?" she said in a half whisper. "Why not someone else?"

"I did not choose you, my dear Evelyn," said Dumbledore. "And you must realize. This is a way of life for you. If you choose to stay, I can explain everything to you. However, if you choose to leave, that past quarter of an hour of your memory will be wiped and you can return back to your home…let's see… about 70 years in the future."

"I knew it!" Evelyn leaped to her feet. "Absolutely not Dumbledore! I am not mad!"

"My dear, I was not asking for you to complete any mission."

"So you do know who I'm talking about!" shouted Evelyn. She paid no attention to what Dumbledore had just said.

Dumbledore gave a slight chuckle. "I am not certain, and you are forbidden by the laws of magic to tell me. But I do have my suspicions."

"But you do know this is _mad_?"

"As I've said before, you do not have a mission of any sort to complete. I am merely offering you a chance at this life."

The onlookers, the ones invading the privacy of this memory, glanced at one another; all sure that they were missing a key part of this conversation.

Evelyn considered his words for what seemed like forever. Dumbledore sat at his desk, waiting for the girl's answer with patience.

Finally, she looked up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Liz and Mum. This is too much to give up." She whispered. "I wish you were here Liz."

"I take that as you are staying?" Dumbledore asked, even though he didn't need to. He knew perfectly well that she decided to stay.

"Noo," said Evelyn, rolling her eyes at the professor. "I'm moving to Mars. Now _please_ explain to me what you meant by my first choice being unusual."

Dumbledore did not speak. Instead, he took out his wand and conjured a screen of mist on the desk. Images began to appear on the screen.

It showed Dumbledore sitting in the same office; perhaps a few year younger. Across for him was a man in a suit of armor. He was holding a torch and attempting to light Dumbledore on fire. The image shifted. Now, sitting in the chair that Evelyn was now occupying was a woman in a dress from the 18th century. She was shouting at Dumbledore, then got up and left.

Dumbledore sighed. "We had to comb the castle for that one."

And the image dissolved. Dumbledore and the office were gone. The young Dumbledore was no longer there. In his place was the older Dumbledore. They were not in the office anymore, but the headmaster's office. Replacing the woman now was a man sitting dressed in a formal suit. He was merely lounging on one of the arm chairs, listening to every word that came out of Dumbledore's mouth quite calmly.

The real Dumbledore in the room suddenly waved his hand over the mist. "I think you understand why now."

But Evelyn was not listening. "Who was that man? He looked calm enough."

"It's nothing," said Dumbledore.

Evelyn seemed to be on the verge of arguing, but then decided against it. "Whatever. But why exactly am _I_ here?"

"Because you are a traveler, my dear."

"Explain."

"Well, I assume you know about our world," said Dumbledore.

Evelyn nodded.

Dumbledore continued. "Good. That will save me a lot of talking. Though how you know so much, I have no idea."

Evelyn smirked. "I think I know more about the future than you, Dumbledore."

"Do not explain to me," said Dumbledore. "I can not know. But please do explain how you know."

Evelyn thought for a moment. Telling Dumbledore would mean she had no secret to use.

_But this is Dumbledore._ Said a small voice in the back of her head.

So what?

_He can help me. _

He can also destroy you.

_ He's Dumbledore for heaven's sake!_

But just in case…

"No." Evelyn blurted out before she could stop herself. She had meant to tell one of the little nagging voices in the back of her head.

Dumbledore looked slightly disappointed. "Very well then."

It's settled then. Said the voice.

_I hate you._ Snarled the other.

Evelyn shook her head, trying to clear it. Talking to herself…she was mad.

"Go on with the explanation, Dumbledore."

"Like metamorphmagus, you can not train to become a permanent time traveled. Of course, time turners always work, but it does not last.

"It is in your blood, miss Florence. And I am afraid that most travelers get tired of it after two of three life spans, and choose to live life as a muggle."

"Is that what I did?"

"Precisely. You were the granddaughter of Godric Gryffindor."

Evelyn almost choked on her tea. "_What?_"

"That was who you were born as, Florence Gryffindor. Your second span was lived as a medieval witch under the same first name. And for your third life, you choose to be a muggle without memory in the future."

"How do you know so much about me?" the girl asked.

"There is a place in the ministry where records of time travelers are kept," said Dumbledore.

"The department of mysteries, isn't it?" said Evelyn.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. In the department of mysteries. However, I think there was some kind of longing to return to this world. And my hourglass,"

He pointed to a green hour glass.

"flipped and told me you were coming."

"Okay…so I was a traveler and now I'm here," said Evelyn. "What do I do here?"

"Live this life."

"But I don't know magic!" said Evelyn, with worry in her voice for the first time. "I mean I know the spells and everything but how do I use them? I haven't got a wand."

"That is not to worry. I shall send you off to the Leaky Cauldron with spell books. You can explore Diagon Alley and a week or two before term starts, I shall send a prefect to help you by your school items and a wand."

"I haven't got any money either."

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Do you not possess a small silver key that you can't get rid of?"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Evelyn. Why there was always a key in her pocket or bookbag or necklace. "I do."

"Ask for the Gasen account." Dumbledore told her. "I think that will be enough money to last."

"Thanks," said Evelyn. "Am I going by floo powder?"

Dumbledore pointed at the green container on his fireplace. "Best of luck, Miss Florence. The books will be in your room. And I don't have to remind you to keep this to yourself, do I?

"Nope," said Evelyn as she stepped into the fireplace with a handful of powder.

"Leakey Cauldron!" She shouted as the green flames engulfed her and sent her spinning past other fire places.

* * *

**_This is it for now. I think Voldemort/Riddle should be making his first entrance in the next chapter. _  
**


	6. Chapter 6 - Voices and Riddle

**Well, I finished this chapter earlier than expected. Woo :) **

* * *

The scene shifted. They were now standing in Gringotts. The bank looked exactly as it had when Harry first walked in all those years ago.

They watched Evelyn walk up to the goblin at the very front desk, still dressed in the same night clothing she had been when her sister woke her up.

"I would like to make a withdraw from the Gasen vault," said Evelyn loudly.

The goblin glanced up from the piece of parchment he had been writing on. "Key?"

Evelyn unhooked her silver and golden necklace, which was carrying a jade charm and a small key, and handed it to the goblin.

Daphne immediately recognized the necklace. Except there was one charm missing; a small silver snake. She had once requested to borrow it for the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Evelyn had reluctantly given it to her for that night. It was the only time Daphne could remember that Evelyn had taken off the necklace.

The goblin examined the key from every angle possible before turning around and shouting to another goblin ("Bodrook!") who came running towards them carrying a lamp.

The first goblin handed over the key to Bodrook. "Gasen family vault," he told Bodrook.

The goblin named Bodrook gave a look of surprise. "Sir, we have orders!" he protested.

"This young lady has the key so I would think."

Bodrook stared at Evelyn for several moments before nodding his head. "Very well, this way, please."

Why had Dumbledore given her the key to a vault that was apparently under strict orders to remain shut?

The goblin led Evelyn through a set of doors. They emerged on the platform; tracks stretched out miles below them.

Bodrook whistled and a cart came racing towards them out of the almost darkness. The goblin placed his lamp at the head of the cart before climbing in himself.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was staring at the cart and tracks below it. She made a sound like a chicken getting strangled.

The goblin was getting annoyed. "Are you coming or not? I have other things to do."

That snapped Evelyn out of her daze. "I'm sorry."

Evelyn got into the cart, which sped off down the tracks.

The scene once dissolved. When it refocused, they were now standing in a small room of an inn. Evelyn was slumped in the single arm chair, reading a book titled "_Occlumency, Shielding Your Mind."_

Muggle clothing were in a pile on her bead.

On the small desk in one corner was a stack of books. Harry recognized them as the course books for years one through four. They were the books Dumbledore had sent. Evelyn apparently had bought quite a few books of her own as well; for in a corner stacked on a trunk were books like "_Normal Misconceptions About the Dark Arts" _and "_Civilized Beasts: A Guide to Centaurs and Merpeople" _and _"Magical Inventions From the Mind of Albus Dumbledore: (Volume 1) Spells" _and _ "(Volume 2) Inventions"_ and _"The Magic of Time: A Description of Time Traveling."_

"She's mental, like you Hermione," Ron spoke for the first time since they had entered the magical world.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Also on her desk was an envelope, bearing the Hogwarts seal. Next to that was a calendar, with each previous day marked off. Today was August 20th, 1942.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Evelyn's reading. She marked her page and set the book on the desk before opening the door.

In the doorway stood a handsome young man, tall with pale skin and charming dark eyes.

Harry knew this was Tom Riddle, the boy who was about to become the darkest wizard in recent history.

"That's _you-know-who?_" Ron whispered, shocked. Harry had described how different Riddle had looked from his future self, but for Ron to see it in person.

"_What?"_ Malfoy's mouth popped open in an _o_. "That's the Dark Lord?"

Harry merely nodded, turning his attention back to the confrontation.

"May I help you?" Evelyn asked the boy.

Riddle smiled; a smile that seemed so genuine. Harry would've believed that it was genuine had he not known what Riddle was.

"Yes, actually," Riddle replied, "I am looking for a Miss Evelyn Floyd."

For a moment, Evelyn was confused. Her name was Florence, not Floyd. Then she realized Dumbledore must've given her a new name.

"That would be me," said Evelyn cheerfully, all traces of confusion gone. "You are…?"

"Riddle," Tom Riddle stuck out his hand. "Tom Riddled."

He said his first name as if it was something sour in his mouth.

Of course! How could she have been so stupid?

"_Because you are."_ Said a voice in her head.

"_I am not! He's just so…charming! The way Voldemort looked was pure evil!"_ said another voice.

"_You know how Jo Rowling described the young Voldemort! He charmed people! It's all a mask!"_

"_You're right."_

"_I know I am. And it makes perfect sense for Dumbledore to send him."_

Before the other voice could say something, another voice butted in.

_Hearing voices is never a good thing, my dear._

Evelyn wanted to smack herself. There was something wrong with her.

Evelyn's expression faltered, and her hand shook slightly as she shook Riddle's hand.

Her change in attitude did not go unnoticed by Riddle. "Is there something wrong?"

"No." said Evelyn, desperate for an excuse. " I just…I've just heard a lot about you."

_That's a lie, my dear._

_No, it's not. I know about him._

_Yes but not in this time period. It's never nice to lie._

_SHUT UP._

"Really?" said Riddle, now curious.

_No._

_Yes._

LEAVE ME ALONE.

Evelyn nodded. "The best student Hogwarts has ever seen apart from Dumbledore. Quite a reputation for a young man like you."

_His reputation gets worse._

_We all know that._

_Such a shame, he seems to be a pleasant young man._

I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TWO WHATEVER YOU ARE TO SHUT UP.

Evelyn thought she needed to see Dumbledore if hearing voices are a normal thing for travelers.

"Thank you," replied Riddle curtly. "I do not think I deserve such an reputation.

_Nope, you think you deserve more._

_Or maybe he's just being humble..._

_Voldemort, humble? Forget it._

BE QUIET. THIS IS MY LIFE_._

Evelyn forced a smile on her face. It was so difficult to smile at the Dark Lord.

_I wonder why…_

_He's going to be a heartless murderer!_

_I know it was sarcasm._

Evelyn did her best to ignore the voices and concentrate on Riddle. "Did Dumbledore or Dippet send you?"

"Yes, to help you fetch your school supplies."

"I appreciate you coming," she said. "There's still a dozen days of vacation left."

There was no need to tell him she knew he hated the world.

_Or is there?_

_Shut the hell up will you?_

"I usually come to stay early, I don't really have anywhere to be," said Riddle. It did not show on his composed face, but they all knew he hated the muggles.

"And if you don't mind, may I ask why you need a new wand and a guide? You don't seem like a first year to me."

Evelyn took half a second to debate on her answer. She was extremely grateful that she had finished the Occlumency book twice already. There was no doubt that Riddle would be trying to read her mind. She just hoped she had conjured some kind of shield.

"My wand snapped in the fight and - " Evelyn suddenly broke off and stared at the ground. She hoped Riddle would see something was wrong. That she did not want to talk.

"What fight?" Apparently, he did not.

Evelyn thought of the first dark wizard that popped into her head aside from Voldemort.

"They killed my family," said Evelyn in a whisper. She hoped it was enough to convince Riddle.

"I am sorry for your loss," said Riddle, his voice hard and edgy now. He had detected something was missing; she was sure he had. Someone with his brain wouldn't be foolish enough to buy into a story.

The conversation had made an awkward turn. Now, the dark, almost black, eyes bore into the light brown.

The silence was interrupted by Riddled. "May I come in?"

Evelyn's first response was to be polite and say yes.

_But my dear, would you really be in a room defenseless against Lord Voldemort?_

That changed her mind. "Um, yes. But do you mind if we run to Ollivander's and get a wand first? I promised Dippet I wouldn't buy one on my own and it's horrifying, living without a wand."

The second part had been a lie, but she had promised the headmaster. He came to visit her once a week ago.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You know we're not allowed to use magic?"

Evelyn wanted to smirk at him. She knew what he was planning to do next summer. And yet here he was, telling her that they weren't allowed to use magic.

Evelyn threw her head back and laughed. "Of course, but we're in Diagon Alley. There's no way the ministry can detect a single trace in a place this busy."

Riddle stepped out of the doorway. "Clever," he said as he closed the door behind her.

_Such a gentleman._

_It's a shame really, that this is just a mask._

_Maybe you can stop it._

"Are you crazy?" Evelyn asked the voices in the voice who had proposed the idea.

_Well, imagine how much better off life would be for everyone if that young man became like Dumbledore instead of like Grindelwald._

_ "_You are mental." Evelyn told herself before following Riddle down the stairs.

* * *

_Don't ask about the voices I know what I'm doing._

_ And before you say it, Riddle is not OOC. He's just wearing that mask of the perfect boy._

_ And about Riddle's appearance, I'm sorry if I get his eye color wrong. All that was mentioned in the books was that it was "handsome and dark." _

_Also, I know the point of view is confusing. It's kind of third person omniscient with a few limits (Tom, Dumbledore, ect.) _

_There won't be that much detail on Harry, Malfoy, Greengrass, Ron, or Hermione's thoughts. Just a bit here and there. The purpose of the Pensive was to tell her story._

_I might be doing a chapter in Riddle's POV every once in a while. *spoiler* this isn't a happy love story but this isn't a one sided love either..._

_I do know there's a few spelling mistakes in the previous chapters...I'm working on fixing that soon._

_I also would like to mention that none of the books I listed in this chapter by title are mentioned by Jo Rowling. Oh right I forgot a disclaimer this chapter and all chapters before this so...I don't own Harry Potter, only most of the story line and the book titles and Evelyn. I am not saying that again disclaimers get so annoying._

* * *

**_Please do review, it gives me incentive to write. _**

_**Since this one came early (ew it sounds like I'm talking about childbirth or something), the next chapter will be up before next Wednesday. **  
_


	7. Chapter 7 - The Other Side of Him

**Sorry this is so short. But 3 chapters up in two days woohoo! :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Their surroundings changed once again. Now, Riddle and Evelyn were walking out of Ollivanders; Evelyn carrying a new wand in her back pocket. She hadn't bothered to take the packaging.

Evelyn took her wand out and twirled it, sending blue sparks all around them.

"I like it. I just hope it lives up to Harry's wand," said Evelyn carelessly.

_No! Don't bring Potter into your life._

Too late. But to her relief, Riddle didn't ask what she was talking about. She had let too much slip already. First, she had given shudder when he mentioned snakes, and then drew back again when he tapped her shoulder to ask if she was okay.

Then, just a few minutes ago in Ollivanders, she had asked if she could see the 11 inch long holly and phoenix feather wand. It was hard to stop yourself to see a wand when you know that wand will help defeat the Dark Lord.

Evelyn chuckled to herself. The Dark Lord was the person standing right behind her. How ironic.

"I'll be in my room, if you need me," said Riddle when they had reached the Leaky Cauldron. "It was nice meeting you, Evelyn Floyd."

She knew he was lying about the last part. She could tell from expression when he thought she wasn't looking that he wanted to leave her alone as soon as possible. Evelyn was tempted to let him leave. She didn't want to spend another minute with Riddle either.

_Now you're in your right state of mind._

If a normal boy had his looks and manners, Evelyn wouldn't have minded them at all. She would've probably taken a liking to them.

But Tom Riddle was no normal boy. He was about to become the darkest wizard in history. He would go on to murder hundreds, maybe more; starting with Myrtle in his fifth year then his parents the summer of his sixth. He would frame his uncle and split his soul that summer as well.

That changed Evelyn's decision to leave Riddle alone. She might as well annoy the hell out of Voldemort while she was still able to get away alive. It was revenge, in the smallest way possible; but still revenge all the same.

_You are mental_.

"Tom?" she called after him as he walked up the stairs.

Riddle stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were darker than they had been a second earlier.

"Do you prefer Riddle or Tom or something else?" Evelyn asked. Of course, she already knew but it was worth annoying him.

Riddle sighed. "I'd prefer Riddle if you don't mind."

Evelyn shook her head. "Pity…"

Her reaction caught him off guard. He probably had expected another volley of questions.

"What?"

"I once had a friend who refused to go by his name, just because it he was named after his father, a muggle born. He hated his mum, loathed his father. Two summers ago, he killed them both without batting an eyelash."

It was more truth than lies. But Riddle didn't know it was him, who she based her story around.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Riddle, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Evelyn didn't know where she wanted to go with this conversation. She wanted to annoy him for the sake of it, but she also wanted to let him know what he was going to become.

"It's nothing," Evelyn said. "Goodnight Riddle."

Riddle nodded in her direction, still with a puzzled expression.

Evelyn ordered a cup of Butterbeer before heading up to bed and asked for it to be delivered up to her room.

Evelyn dragged herself up the stairs. She pushed open her door and threw open the window. She hated confined spaces, and she hated heights. She jumped in bed without changing. Her thoughts still on Tom Riddle, Voldemort, whatever.

It seemed so impossible that the boy in she had just met would end up splitting his soul and killing hundreds.

_My dear, that's the effect he has on people. Don't fall for it._

_ Give the boy a chance. Love is what he needs._

Evelyn almost threw up right on the spot. Maybe she could consider friendship, but _love?_ Love Voldemort? It was a horrifying thought, and a disgusting one as well.

_If he is loved, he might never turn out to be like that._ Said the mirror sleepily.

"When did you start talking?" she asked the mirror.

_"I don't_." it answered.

"You're talking right now."

_"Little Evelyn, you mind is boggled up."_

"I am going mad, aren't I?"

"_Not at all." Replied the mirror._

A soft knock issued from behind the door.

"Come in," Evelyn shouted. It must be her butterbeer. She was still laying on her bed.

Riddle opened the door. "They asked me to bring your butterbeer up." He was holding a glass bottle in one hand.

Evelyn staggered to her feet and took the butterbeer. She emptied half the bottle before taking a breath.

"Thanks, Riddle." Evelyn managed to say before collapsing.

"He poisoned the butterbeer," Draco stated.

Ron snorted. "No, really Malfoy. What else did you expect from You-Know, Oh alright! Voldemort. Happy Harry? But seriously what did you expect from Voldemort?"

Riddle smiled; it was a cruel smile that made his eyes reflect the red light of the candle. First the first time, Tom Riddle truly resembled Lord Voldemort.

"What are you doing?" Evelyn managed to croak out weakly, before passing out.

The scene around them began to dissolve.

* * *

**_Please review :)_**


	8. Chapter 8 - A Slight Argument

**Chapter 8! :) I hope it meets you people's satisfaction. And thank you for Colette Hyuga for your review :) **

* * *

They were now sitting in the compartment of a train. Evelyn sat alone in the corner in her robes, staring blankly out the window and occasionally twirling and sending multicolored sparks out of her wand.

The rest of the compartment was completely empty, save her trunk and rucksack on the rack and a unopened sandwich that lay on the seat next to her.

Evelyn appeared to be deeply lost in thought. Her expression showed no sign the excitement she had had while in Diagon Alley.

"Do you think it's something Riddle did to her?" Daphne asked in a small, frightened voice.

"I donno," said Ron. "And why don't we get to see what happened?"

Ron ducked out of the way as Hermione tried to slap his head.

"What did I do?" He asked Hermione, who was glaring at him.

"Are you stupid or what?" Hermione was shaking her head in disbelief. "She doesn't remember since she passed out."

"Oh, right." Ron had the grace to look slightly ashamed of himself.

No one said a word after that. Harry was observing Evelyn's blank face and Hermione and Ron were glaring at each other. Daphne sat next to the memory of her best friend; Draco sat next to her, looking extremely out of place and awkward.

Once or twice, Harry got up to try to leave the compartment but each time, he was stopped by some invisible barrier at the doors. He had no choice but to return to his seat.

They sat in awkward silence for a minute or two, watching the green hills rush past the train.

It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly with not a cloud in sight. The grass was still as green as ever, but it was now dotted with the orange and yellow and red autumn leaves.

"Is there an open compartment anywhere?" Someone was outside the compartment doors.

Evelyn glanced up at this. She looked around, making sure that no one had entered the compartment before turning back to staring expressionlessly out the window.

Her relief was not long lived. Barely a second later, they heard the door slide open. The head of a boy who looked remarkably like Theodore Nott poked in.

Evelyn didn't even glance up. Harry could see her expression turn slightly sour.

The boy walked in, apparently oblivious that there was another girl already in it. He was about to sit down when he noticed her.

"Oi!" the boy yelled as he jumped up away from Evelyn like she had just apperated out of nowhere. "Who are you?"

Evelyn glanced up at him; the sour expression had been replaced by annoyance. "Evelyn Floyd," she said coolly. "Now if you don't mind please get out of my compartment."

The boy gave her a look of pure disgust, as if she was a misshapen slug.

"Wouldn't want to be in here anyways, now that I know what you are," said the boy. He wrinkled his nose as he walked out of the compartment.

"There's a mudblood in this one," he said to someone in the aisle. "Let's go somewhere else."

"How do you know whoever in there's one?" someone asked.

"Floyd, don't know the name."

They heard loud voices complaining about how there was no other empty compartment for several long seconds. Then ...

"Be quiet, will you?" Tom Riddle's voice floated through the still open compartment doors.

Everyone fell silent, as if a silencing charm had just been cast on them.

"Watch your manners. Nott," said Riddle's cool, calm voice.

It was still remarkable to think that this boy was a heartless monster. He seemed so charming.

_We've been over this before. You know it might work if you have a go at it so then_

The voice had returned to Evelyn's head. Harry could hear it, coming from everywhere yet nowhere. It was a female voice, calming yet still sharp.

"Shut. up." Evelyn muttered under her breath.

Outside the compartment, Riddle was still telling the boy, Nott, off for calling someone a mudblood.

"If I were you," Riddle concluded in calm but rather threatening tone. "I would apologize."

Nott gave a small shriek of protest, at which Riddle sighed.

"Go on, Nott," said a third boy. "Before whoever you just called a mudblood comes out here and jinxes us all."

"Or Riddle jinxes you," Another boy laughed.

"I just might," said Riddle with a slight edge of humor on his voice.

The rest of the boys laughed.

Nott was fighting a losing battle. After a long moment of thought, he apparently thought it was better to apologize than getting jinxed by Riddle.

He stumbled into the compartment and glared at Evelyn before saying, "Look, about me calling you a mudblood, I -"

Evelyn cut him off in mid-sentence with an impatient look.

"Don't waste your breath," she said angrily through clenched teeth. "If your _friend_ hadn't made you, you wouldn't have bothered at all. Just do me one favor and leave."

She said the word 'friend' as if it was something sour in her mouth.

"Well then," Nott scowled at her. "I'd love to do that favor."

He turned to leave.

Evelyn seemed to have made up her mind about something.

It was only a second later did they find out what that thing was.

"Tell Riddle I want a word with him," she called to the retreating figure of Nott.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed surprised at her request to see Riddle.

_Are you stupid?_

_I think she is._

"I enjoy your advice but SHUT UP." Evelyn muttered again.

Nott seemed to hear her say something. "What was that?"

"I said tell Riddle I want to see him," said Evelyn, covering up for her muttering. "Alone."

This seemed to scare Nott. His face fell slightly as he walked out of the compartment.

"Riddle, this girl want to speak to you." Nott called down the aisle. There was a certain amount of uncertainty in his voice.

A moment later, Riddle walked in; as composed and well-mannered as ever. He motioned for the rest of his group to leave, and then slid the door closed.

"Is there anything I can do, Miss Floyd?" Riddle asked.

Evelyn gave him a unhidden look of pure disgust but said nothing.

Riddle did not react to the look she had given him, but instead commented on her silence.

"I was under the impression you wished to speak with me," said Riddle.

"I most certainly do not wish to," said Evelyn. "But it is necessary."

"Well…?"

"What did you do?" asked Evelyn.

"I did not do anything, Floyd," said Riddle, even though Harry was sure he knew she was referring to the butterbeer.

"Don't pretend Tom Riddle," Evelyn hissed. It was hard to believe that this was the same girl that had been staring out the window blankly just a few minutes before. "You and I both know you put something in that butterbeer that I was stupid enough to drink and I would like to know what it was."

Riddle merely shrugged. "If you're referring to when you passed out that night, I believe it was from exhaustion."

"It was not!" said Evelyn, half yelling. She had leapt to her feet.

"I wouldn't dare to contaminate anything, if that is what you are suggesting."

_Great, now he knows you suspect him._

_Yes, and that you've wasted the last two weeks pretending as if nothing had happened, ignoring him when possible._

_Foolish girl._

_You should have left and went home._

Home. Evelyn mouthed the word, home. Home, where her sister was. Her sister, her beautiful wonderful sister Liz. Why had she been so stupid, agreeing to stay? She had been about to meet the two celebrities she had loved. She had her whole life to live. She had her mother. She had Liz. And she had Rob.

Evelyn almost completely forgot that Riddle was still in the compartment. In fact, she had forgotten where she was herself for a moment.

Then she remembered she was not at home, but on a train across from Voldemort.

It all crashed over her. Her hopeless situation, her homesickness. She had surely not only left her family behind in selfishness, but also probably sealed her fate with a "Death at the hands of Voldemort" sticker.

Evelyn dropped back into her seat, and returned to staring out the window. This time however, her expression was not blank, but of pain.

A tear slid down Evelyn's cheek.

Riddle sat across from the girl, watching her cry about something he did not know about.

* * *

Tom Riddle watched the girl, Floyd cry. He did not know why she was crying. Of course, it might be that he had indeed poisoned her bottle of butterbeer, but that was with only a sleeping draft. It would not have done any damage.

He had put her to sleep, in hopes that her occlumency shield would crumble. He wanted, needed to know how she knew so much about him, about his plans. That story about the boy murdering his parents…if his father was a muggle, well, he deserved death. It seemed so close to what his plans might be. It was too close.

But his attempt to read her mind resulted in nothing. Her shield had fallen that one night, but her dreams were of people and places he could not name.

There had been a girl, laughing and pelting Floyd with snowballs; a middle aged woman who was peeling potatoes in the kitchen; and a handsome boy with dark hair and deep blue eyes running through the rain with Floyd.

He wondered who the boy was. The women was surely her mother and the girl looked remarkably Floyd, her sister maybe. But the boy…his face had appeared quite often.

Occasionally, the face of another boy appeared. One with untidy black hair, slightly lopsided glasses, a lightning shaped scar on his forehead, and sparkling green eyes.

The face of the other boy reminded Tom of someone, but he could not put his finger on who it was. Tom felt like he knew the boy from somewhere.

But all in all, the dreams had resulted in nothing but more questions about Floyd's life. If anything, he had lost her trust.

Now, he sat across from the girl he could not unlock. He wanted very much to leave. He hated crying. He could never calm those at the orphanage. It made him slightly uncomfortable.

Of course, he could stun her and cut her memories and find a way to get Dumbledore's pensive, but that would ruin his reputation. A silly little girl's life was not worth it.

He would have to find a way. He did not know why, but something told him this was important. That these memories somehow might affect him.

He would find a way, Tom promised himself.

And then he would dispose of her.

* * *

_And this chapter concludes with a bit from Riddle's mind. Next chapter up before next weekend, hopefully sooner!_


	9. Chapter 9 - The Sorting Hat

**Chapter 9 is here! Next update on Tuesday, we have the day off from classes (thank god), maybe Wednesday bc of the massive load of word Herms will surely leave (he's horrifying) but enough about my physics professor and hope you like this chapter :)**

**And thank you all for your reviews :) Awesomeme, I just deleted the previous author's note, so it says the story was updated, it's not. Well, not until now but you know**

* * *

Tom Riddle, Evelyn, and the train compartment all dissolved. They stood in open space, black mist swirling all around them. The memories seemed to be unsure of what to show them. Eventually, what seemed like a few minutes later, the images began to reform themselves.

They were now standing in the great hall. It looked exactly like it had during Harry's school years, except that Albus Dumbledore was not sitting in the throne like chair. In his place sat a scrubby bald little wizard, whom Harry could only assume was Armando Dippet, the current headmaster.

A line of first years stood in front of the house tables, all chatting nervously. This was the start of term feast, Harry realized. Unlike those of Snape's, not much time had passed from their last memory.

Dippet rose from his chair, and, Harry had to admit, he was not as intimidating as Dumbledore had been, or, in fact, to young Dumbledore next standing by the stool holding the sorting hat.

"Welcome," said Armando Dippet, spreading his arms out wide much like how Dumbledore had greeted them in Harry's first year, "To another year at Hogwarts.

"I wish you all have had an enjoyable summer, and now we shall together return to the realm of learning. Now, before we proceed on to our usual tradition of sorting our newest members of the student body, I would like to make notice of a very unusual situation."

Evelyn was standing at the doors of the great hall. She did not want to be sorted in front of, to be introduced to the entire student body. Nothing would result of this than her making a fool of herself. She tried to tell Dippet, to ask him for a private sorting, but the headmaster waved her worries away ("Nonsense! It's normal to be nervous. It is only right for everyone in your year to know your face and what would be a better way to introduce you?)

So, now, she stood listening to Dippet make a speech that surely was to introduce her.

"Due to ah, unfortunate personal matters, we will be accepting a new student who will be starting her fifth year," said Dippet. "Miss Evelyn Floyd will be sorted before the first years."

Here, he beckoned Evelyn forward. She shrank in herself, attempting to ignore the stares and whispers from the students seated at the tables.

Dumbledore placed the sorting hat on Evelyn's head. It looked exactly the way it had when Harry had been sorted; not one less wrinkle or patch and still the same muddy colour that would have made Aunt Petunia shriek.

_Ahhhhh yes, I remember you well._

The voice of the sorting hat echoed as clear as a bell around the great hall. Or at least, it seemed to be to Harry and the others invading on the memory.

Evelyn suppressed a laugh. Being remembered by a hat…definitely an accomplishment.

_Yes, because only you have attempted to set me on fire._

It was like listening in to a telephone conversation. Harry could only hear the hat's comments.

How had she managed to set the hat on fire? She had only been here for a few weeks and – Oh. A small detail from the novels popped into her mind. The hat was first Godric Gryffindor's. And she had apparently been his granddaughter.

_Right. Now let's see…where shall I put you?_

Just not Slytherin and I'll be happy, Evelyn thought. She had no problem with the house, well, yes she did. Major problems. But it was also the dorms and common rooms being under the lake, if what Rowling described was true. And so far, everything she experienced here was exactly the way it had been described in the books.

_Not Slytherin, eh?_

Nope. Evelyn would've rather jumped into a pit of acid then be sorted into that house. She was claustrophobic. And, even though she didn't admit it; Evelyn wanted to avoid Riddle as much as possible. If she saw him again, well, Evelyn could barely suppress an urge to murder him on the spot. Ever since the day he poisoned her butterbeer, she had been wary of him. Now, after his words on the train here, she wanted to strangle him.

How dare he pretend and charm everyone here, now, when inside right below the surface was a heartless monster?

_I can tell you do not fear Tom Riddle. But where do you belong….where to put you?_

Anywhere but Slytherin, anywhere but Slytherin.

_Anywhere but Slytherin, eh?_

Yes, you moron. Evelyn thought. I don't think I need to repeat myself a what, fifth time?

_Just as rude as ever._

Harry had never heard of the hat insulting a student before, and it surprised them all.

Evelyn heaved a sigh. She didn't remember the sorting hat being this annoying during Harry's sorting.

_But I think Slytherin would suite you well._

Evelyn swore to herself that she would set the hat on fire and toss its ashes down the toilet if it put her in Slytherin. She hated the house, hated what it represented.

_But yet, smart, loyal, and brave almost to the point of idiocy. I know you possess those traits along with being cunning._

Anywhere but Slytherin, anywhere but Slytherin.

_Made up your mind then?_

YES. Evelyn was now deeply annoyed. She had made up her mind when she first read the books at the age of eight.

_So it shall be where you have always been…. GRYFINDORR!_

The hat roared the last word to the entire student body, and Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief. It had been close, too close. The Gryffindor table was cheering loudly, and a few people, quite a few people moved aside and beckoned Evelyn to sit with them

She gave the hat back to Dumbledore, who was now looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes that seemed to say he knew something she didn't. Evelyn, for a moment, was tempted to stick her tongue out at the professor, but thought better of it.

Evelyn took a seat next to a girl at the front of the table, nearest the teachers.

The girl gave Evelyn a startled look of surprise as she took the seat next to her, which soon turned to a warm smile.

"Evelyn Floyd, right?" the girl asked, sticking out her hand for Evelyn to shake. "I'm glad you're in Gryffindor. I'm Enid Longbottom."

Evelyn almost asked "Neville's aunt?" out of habit. Whenever someone had mention a name relating to Harry Potter, she and Lizzy used to blurt out random facts about the person.

Instead, Evelyn returned her smile and shook the girl's hand.

"Thanks," said Evelyn, "Nice to meet you."

Enid Longbottom smiled again and said, "There's no need to be so polite, Evelyn. Is it okay if I call you Evelyn?"

"Didn't you just say there's no need to be polite?" said Evelyn. "Call me whatever you want."

The girl gave a small laugh. "Thank god someone here has a sense of humor," she said, "I mean Marin is nice, I suppose but I cannot stand her telling every one of us off for acting _unlady like._"

"Who?" Evelyn asked.

Enid pointed to a girl sitting in the middle of the table, with her hand in her lap and sitting upright. Evelyn suppressed a laugh. It was funny to see women act the way they did in the old movies.

"I know," said Evelyn, "Muggle men think we're _weak_."

Evelyn and her newly found friend chattered on about women's rights in the muggle world, but Harry was not listening.

He was busy watching a boy, with untidy, black hair and a face the so closely resembled his own. It might be his grandfather, or maybe a great uncle. Harry could not remember the exact details of the faces of his long dead family members the Mirror of Erisied had showed him all those years ago, but he knew this boy was surely in there somewhere.

Ron's voice brought him back to reality.

"Harry," Ron whispered. "Half the Slytherin table's staring at her."

Sure enough, quite a few girls from the Slytherin table were staring at Evelyn, their attention occasionally darting back to Riddle, who was, too, staring at her with a blank expression. Evelyn and Enid did not notice the slightest.

"Let's go get a better look at Riddle," said Ron, and the two began to move towards the Slytherin table. Draco, Hermione, and Daphne did not seem to notice them leave. Draco and Daphne were still listening to Evelyn's conversation, and Hermione seemed to be in her own little world. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, as if trying to remember a particularly difficult spell and she was muttering to herself.

"I'm still telling ya," Ron whispered to Harry and pointed to Hermione. "She's mental."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, and said "Come on."

But before they reached Riddle, the floor began giving away and the memory dissolved once more.

* * *

_Okay, the thing that annoys me about Tom Riddle fics is that personally, I think Tom Riddle is Voldemort in a different body and has been during his school years. So don't expect something like "He had no choice because of this curse on all of Slytherin's descendants" kind of plot because it is not going to happen. _


	10. Chapter 10 - Potions

**Sorry guys...late again, and this isn't really an eventful memory. But, the next chapter is going to be completed either tomorrow of Sunday, so there's going to be more content in 11 then this one. In the mean time, ladies and gentlemen (I assume mostly ladies but I don't know), I present to you *mysterious background music* chapter ten!**

* * *

The images rebuilt themselves around them. They were now in a room that was filled with tables and cauldron. It was the potions classroom. In the front of the room, next to the cupboard which held potions ingredients, stood a much younger professor Slughorn; the one that Harry had scene in Slughorn's own memory.

The young Slughorn took a heavy stack of papers, graded papers by the looks of it, off his desk .and, with a flick of his wand, returned them all to the students around the room. All except for two.

In the very back corner of the room, sitting next to Neville's great aunt, Evelyn was beginning to panic. She probably failed this exam, her very first one here at Hogwarts. There was no way she could come up with a story for Slughorn explaining why she had failed. For the past two weeks at Hogwarts, Evelyn had done nothing but study and try to make up for what she hadn't learned. To her astonishment, it all came naturally to her. Muggle Studies was a breeze, as was Divination, which was taught by Cassandra Trawlany, who was a far more effective teacher than her granddaughter. Transfiguration and Charms were slightly more difficult, but Evelyn had paid attention in class, and nothing had gone wrong. Defense Against the Dark Arts was an interesting class, and not very practical, so Evelyn had not a lot of trouble with that

But _potions_. It was going to be the death of her! Evelyn was quite confident on the written portions of potions. She could describe the effects, ingredients, side effects, and generally anything relating to a potion they had gone over. But brewing them was a plain nightmare. Somehow, Evelyn never seemed to get the timing right, nor the amount of ingredients to add.

Evelyn was certain she had failed the test completely. During the written portion, she had been too busy worrying about the practical part, and certainly failed to brew a correct Draught of the Living Dead.

"I would like to congratulate two of our students for both achieving top marks out of all my fifth year classes on the written portion of your little test," announced Slughorn to the class, "Mr. Tom Riddle,"

"No surprise there," Enid muttered to Evelyn, even though she didn't look angry in the slightest. Instead, Enid sounded like she _admired_ Riddle.

"And Miss Evelyn Floyd," concluded Slughorn with a merry chuck. "Ten points to Gryffindor and Slytherin, and ten more to Slytherin because Mr. Riddle here managed to brew me up a perfect potion."

Evelyn couldn't believe it. She had scored top marks? It was impossible! As if reading her thoughts, Enid patted Evelyn's shoulder. "I told you you would do fine," said Enid.

"Miss Floyd," said Slughorn as the bell rang signaling the end of the period, "A word in my office, if you don't mind."

Evelyn hesitated, and then stepped into Slughorn's office. Enid stood awkwardly by the door of the potions classroom, waiting for Evelyn.

"Yes, sir?" Evelyn asked Slughorn nervously. Slughorn was now staring at Evelyn's test.

"It seems that you have had trouble brewing potions," said Slughorn.

Evelyn had known this day was going to come soon. She stood there as awkward as Enid outside the classroom, unsure of what to say.

Fortunately, Slughorn spoke for her. "Don't worry, my dear," he said, taking in her nervous expression, "Professor Dippet explained to me your family matter, and I am sorry about that." His face fell slightly.

"But," Slughorn continued, "this means you will need a tutor."

"Sir!" Evelyn protested. She had quidditch, and was already tutored by Dumbledore himself, and these two activities, none of which Evelyn would ever drop out of, took up five days of the week. The two free evenings was spent in the Gryffindor Common Room, catching up on the load of homework the fifth years had been assigned in preparations for the OWLs. "Professor Dumbledore is already –"

But Slughorn had already made up his mind. He raised a hand to stop Evelyn, and then said in a cheery voice, "Just one evening a week, my dear. I do hope to have you in my NEWT class next year."

Evelyn wasn't stupid enough to argue with Slughorn; as cheery as he might seem right now, she had more than her shares worth of witnessing wild mood swings.

"Sir," said Evelyn, "Will you be tutoring me?"

Surprise registered on Slughorn's face. "Oh, no my dear," said Slughorn a little too quickly, "but I have arranged for a student to work with you in a spare classroom tonight."

_Oh I hope it's the Potter boy._

_ He's such a charming boy, and he's not acting._

Evelyn had thought these voices were supposed to be helpful to her, as Dumbledore had told her when she had asked during their first lesson. He wouldn't explain why they were there, but he had told her their purpose. And, so far, discussing boys was not helpful in the slightest.

_But we are helpful._

_ Yes, we are. Men are an important part of our lives._

She decided to ignore them for now; yelling at herself wouldn't make her reputation in Slughorn's room any better.

Evelyn opened her mouth to ask who the student was, but before she finished her question, Slughorn had hurried out the room, saying to them along the way, "Third room to the left on the second floor corridor by eight tonight! I'm terribly sorry, but I have to meet with Professor Dippet on OWL material!"

The images dimmed and dissolved into mist.


	11. Chapter 11 - Muti-Personality Disorder

For the first time in his life, Riddle had come across a mystery he could not solve. The girl. A transfer student out of nowhere, when Hogwarts did not accept transfers. She was always laughing to herself about things no one else could see the slightest humor in; stopping in the middle of sentences and changing the subject, and she was _avoiding him_ whenever she could.

Did she know he was attempting to use legimenacy against her? It was possible, that would explain why she always blocked her mind. But then Tom had no idea where she learned Occlumency.

He needed to know what she was hiding; he hated not knowing. There had to be a way of gaining her trust, and the girl seemed to be foolish enough to trust. He had seen her and the Longbottom girl whispering about the Potter boy. There had to be a way, and he would find it.

* * *

Evelyn walked into the room for the third time to meet with Riddle. She dreaded it, these sessions, dreaded every second she spent with him.

The hour passed the same it did every time. Only Riddle spoke, giving her instructions and preventing her from putting in a wrong ingredient. The clocked ticked, though slower than ever. Every second felt like an hour.

The end of the hour was what Harry and the other witnessed. It was the memory that the dying Evelyn had chosen to give them. They needed to see, to realize that everything was her fault.

The memory reconstructed around the two in the room.

Harry saw Evelyn turn to leave. She was out of the door when they heard Riddle call after her.

"Wait!" he yelled, "Evelyn, wait!"

Harry could see his own curious expression mirrored on her face for a moment, but when he blinked, it was replaced by an icy glare.

"I didn't realize we were on a first name basis," said Evelyn coolly, "What do you want?"

Riddle pretended to ignore the first part. Commenting on it would only make it worse. "Look," said Riddle with a slight hesitancy, "I wanted to apologise, about what I said on the train."

It was very well done, the hesitating, the slight blushing.

"So?" Evelyn raised an eyebrow, wondering what Riddle was playing at.

"I was um, well wondering if you would ah forget what happened," said Riddle, "and we could um start over? I mean I was a bit of an idiot and my temper got the better of me so, please."

He sounded so sincere, so caring. And in that moment, Evelyn wanted to believe with all her heart that he was sincere. She wanted to get to know him, wanted to trust him. Evelyn couldn't explain what it felt like if she tried. It was as if Riddle had cast a charm on her, almost irresistible. She was tempted to accept his apology, and almost said so.

_You idiot_, the voice snarled. _Don't be a fool._

_ How do I know to trust you?_ Evelyn told the voice, _I don't even know who you are._

_ We know more than you you foolish girl,_ the voice retorted, _This is a foolish path to take. I did not take you as a fool Evelyn, but you seem so certain to prove yourself to be one._

_ He's just a poor little boy! He can't do anything._

_ Oh really?_ It was the second voice now speaking to her, _Remember who killed the Riddles, Sirius, the Potters, tortured the Longbottoms? Who killed Moody, and Tonks, and Lupin? Why did Fred die, Dumbledore, or Snape? And you say this boy can't do any harm._

Snape. The man brave beyond all others, the man who risked his life to protect the son of the woman he loved, of the man he hated. Snape, the man who was dead at Voldemort, at Tom Riddle's hands.

It snapped Evelyn out of her daze. Now, every syllable Riddle had just said to her seemed too real, with too much effort put into it. The blushing, the stuttering, the embarrassment; which now all seemed artificial. Because they were. She had been a fool in thinking for a moment that he was harmless.

"I would accept your apology," said Evelyn with as much hatred in every syllable as she could muster, "if it had been sincere."

"I - "

"I know who you are, Tom Marvolo Riddle," hissed Evelyn coldly, and she was pleased to see his eyes widen in shock at the sound of his name.

"Yes, I know who you are," Evelyn continued, "I know what you can do Riddle. And I know you only use your manners to get your way. I know your abilities, I know your weaknesses, I know your fears Riddle. But I will give you this. You are a wonderful liar."

Evelyn gave Riddle no chance of replying. She turned on her heels and walked down the corridor without a glance back at Tom Riddle, who was staring after her in shock. As she disappeared out of sight, they could the voices echoing in room.

_That was unwise dear, I think you went a little too far._

_ Stop yelling at us! I know you don't care but honestly!_

_ I – well, what? Pudding?_

_ She wants pudding, can you believe it?_

_ There's nothing wrong with pudding, but really! You were about to murder someone and now you want pudding._

The voices were becoming fainter now, like it was from a conversation at the end of a long corridor. Even so, Harry could make out the last few words the second voice said.

_Do you think she has some sort of multi-personality disorder?_

_ I wouldn't be surprised._

_ Okay! I'm shutting up now! There's no need to drown yourself to get rid of me. Fine! I already said I'm shutting up!_

Harry got one last look at Tom Riddle before the memory turned back into swirling mist. He was still standing by the table, staring out to door after the long retreated Evelyn as if she had just slapped him across the face.


	12. Chapter 12 - An Invitation

**Sorry for the long gap between this update! I know I should have finished this ages ago. I started it a few weeks back, but between finals and standardized tests and all the other stuff I do to occupy non-existent-to-begin-with free time, I kind of forgot about this. But it is here, so without further useless talks from me that half of you won't bother to read...Chapter 12 at long last! **

* * *

They were now in Dumbledore's office dropping in on Dumbledore and Evelyn's meeting. The girl sat in the armchair facing the fireplace, not speaking a word as Dumbledore fumbled in his traveling cloak for something.

"How are your classes?" asked Dumbledore, breaking the stiff silence.

Evelyn did not look up at him as she answered, "Fine."

It wasn't exactly a lie; her classes were going considerably well. It was just the people in her classes, well, person. But if Dumbledore had noticed any falsity in her answer, he did not point it out.

"You are, I believe," said Dumbledore striding over to the fire with a silver glass bottle in one hand, "not getting along well with Tom Riddle."

_He just had to bring that … that…monster up didn't he?_

"Thank god I'm not," said Evelyn in a stone cold voice. She did not need to discuss the boy with anyone, she did not want to. He was so perfect, yet so hideous.

"Could you, ah, elaborate on that, miss Folyd?" said Dumbledore, who, judging by the expression on his face, clearly knew he was not going to get an answer.

"No," said Evelyn in the same emotionless voice, "sir, I've got work to complete. I'll head up to Gryffindor tower if you don't mind."

"No, not at all," said Dumbledore even though his tone clearly showed that he did mind. "I shall see you tomorrow then."

The mist rose around them, and the two figures turned into a swirl of colors. When everything refocused, they were in the potions classroom once more. Enid Longbottom was slowly walking out the door, glancing back at Evelyn and Riddle every few seconds.

"I'll see you in a few," said Evelyn to the girl's retreating figure, "Just have to speak with Riddle first."

Riddle picked up a silver knife that Evelyn had not yet packed away. "Silver…" he muttered almost to himself, "Must have cost a fortune."

"That'll be my knife," said Evelyn, grabbing her knife back from Riddle, "What do you want?"

Riddle smiled. It was not the same smile Lord Voldemort once had, but still obvious to Evelyn as a mask. "Why always assume that I want something? I just wanted to - "

"See? You do want something," Evelyn cut in. "If you don't mind I have somewhere to be."

"See here," said Riddle quietly, "I was well just wondering if you would want to go to Professor Slughorn's party."

"I wasn't invited," said Evelyn bluntly.

"I mean, with me," said Riddle as he stared at the ground.

_Someone could make it to Hollywood._ Once again, the voice echoed around the memory.

_Brilliant actor he is._ The seoncd voice agreed with the first.

_Don't agree, he wants something. _The first voice advised Evelyn.

_All the better to go with him._

_You're going to put her under a death sentence._

_He's going to get what he wants this is Lord Voldemort we're talking about. If she gives him a bit but_

_SHUT UP WOULD YOU TWO?_ Evelyn was more than annoyed with them. This was her life, and she most certainly did not want two anonymous voices in her head telling her what to do.

Never the less, once their opinions entered her head, it was difficult to get rid of them. Evelyn was now seriously considering accepting Riddle's offer. She was certain he was already annoyed with her, and surely, that meant she was under a death sentence. Going with him to a teacher advised party surely couldn't do any harm as long as she was careful…but still.

"I, uh, well," said Evelyn, not sure of what to say as she still hadn't completely made up her mind, "Well…"

_Don't. Do. It. _The first voice snarled.

"I'd love to," Evelyn finished, and in spite of herself, blushed scarlet. Surely, it wouldn't hurt. Just one simple party…nothing more.

For a moment, Riddle's expression seemed to be one of triumph; but, a second later, was replaced by a smile. "It's the week before Halloween," said Riddle.

The scene dissolved, and they were standing in the common room in Gryffindor house. The fire was burning brighter than ever in the fireplace, and two girls sat in the arm chairs nearest to it.

"Well?" the first girl asked, "What did Tom Riddle want?"

"It was nothing, really," said the second girl, obviously trying to shrug off the topic.

"Nothing? Nothing? _Nothing?_ He struts out looking like Christmas had come early and you come out looking like you've seen a werewolf!" Enid Longbottom's voice had risen to almost a shout. Heads turned in their direction; and the Gryffindors around them seemed mildly interested in their conversation.

"He asked me to go to Slughorn's party, okay?" said Evelyn quietly, "Like I've said, nothing really."

Enid gaped at her open mouthed for what seemed like a full minute. "Have you gone mad?" she exclaimed in an even louder voice.

_She's been mad!_ It was one of those voices again.

_Are you complaining about us not being here all the time? I thought you hated us._

They could only hear one side of the conversation, but that was enough to fill in what was unsaid.

_There's other yous out there, it's not just you, there's you! We're everywhere at once, so are you but at different times. _

_It makes perfect sense! You're here but everywhere while we're everywhere but here._

_There is a difference. We just can't explain._

"Tom Riddle just asked you on a date, and it's _no big deal?_"

Everyone was staring at them now. Around them, whispers broke out; everyone was pointing, staring at the two girls.

"What did she say, about Riddle?"

"Tom Riddle actually _fancies_ someone?"

"What does he see in _her?_"

"Did I hear Longbottom right?"

"_Bloody hell_"

"Really," Evelyn whispered to Enid, so that none of the girls, who were now paying full attention to them, could overhear, "He's just a _boy_! A Slytherin!"

_Just a little wizard who could murder half the school without blinking an eyelash…yep. Just a boy…okay! Shutting up now!_

"Yes," said Enid slowly. "_Just_ the most handsome, polite, and best student in the school who's never been slightly interested in a girl. _Just._"

Evelyn wondered what her best friend would have to say about Riddle in half a century, when he was as inhumane, snakelike, and merciless as anything could ever be. She didn't think Enid Longbottom would think of Lord Voldemort as a handsome and polite student.

Once again, the memory turned to nothingness that reformed within moments. They found themselves on the castle grounds. Just a few feet ahead of them, Evelyn and Riddle were strolling down to the lake.

"So you're talking to me again?" said Riddle.

"I figured I might as well," said Evelyn. She shrugged. "There's no upside of not doing so."

"And there's an upside to talking to me?"

"Well," said Evelyn slowly. "I get to see that Pond girl explode every time she sees me."

"Which one?"

"The Ravenclaw in our year. God she's annoying."

"May I ask why you've been ignoring me for the past few days then?" said Riddle.

"Always the gentleman, are we now?" Evelyn grinned suddenly. "Of course you can ask, I don't control your mouth; but I'm not obliged to answer."

"Well?" said Riddle, "Will you answer?"

"Nope."

"Figured," said Riddle. "

They were now on the bank of the Black Lake. It looked exactly as Harry remembered it. Riddle gestured to a long, but bumpy rock that stood up to two feet in the air. With a wave of his wand, the surface turned to a smooth, glassy, texture.

"Would you like to sit here?" said Riddle, gesturing at the newly transformed piece of rock.

"Thank you," Evelyn replied dryly. There was an awkward tension between the two. They were both hiding something, and they both knew it.

"So," said Evelyn after a few minutes of plain silence. "The Halloween Party….who else is going?"

Tom Riddle seemed slightly surprised at the change in subject, and slightly disappointed. "I think a few of the teachers, a few students including Miss Pond, who you seemingly hate so dearly, and a few ministry workers. All old friends of Professor Slughorn's."

"You're right," said Evelyn, taking out _101 Magical Herbs and Fungi_ from her bag. "I do hate her."

"You have no right to," Riddle raised an eyebrow, questioning why without asking out loud. He grabbed the book she was holding and began flipping through it at an annoyingly fast pace.

Evelyn snatched her book back from him. "I certainly do," she said. "She's rude, obnoxious, and has such a big head. And that is my book, thank you very much."

Riddle grinned; a feature that fitted into his handsome features so well. "You are most certainly welcomed."

"Oh, shut up." Evelyn stretched her arms and then laid on the flat surface. "Do you think I can wear a dress?" she asked in a light tone.

"A dress… a muggle dress?" asked Riddle, slightly disbelieving. "I believe so. But why would you consider it when there are dress robes?"

Evelyn shrugged and brushed a golden leaf off her shoulder. "It's comfy," she said.

And, once again, the memory dissolved and reformed into an office crowed with people. In the middle of it, there was a band playing and a dance floor. Evelyn and Riddle were sitting in a corner, next to an open window. The night air brought in a cool breeze, ruffling the loose sleeves of Evelyn's dress.

Professor Slughorn was talking to a short little witch in silver robes. "And over there by the window," he pointed at Tom Riddle and Evelyn. "Is my dear boy Tom. Such a talented lad. I'll bet an arm that he could brew an Essence of Terror with his eyes closed…not that he would want to, of course. Always so polite."

"Tom Riddle, is he?" asked the little witch in a squeaky voice that matched her appearance. "From what I've heard Galatea say on the boy, he would make an excellent addition to my office."

Slughorn chuckled. "People will be making grabs for him when he's finished his schooling, I think I can manage to persuade him to join you department, Margret."

"Who's the girl he's chatting with?" said the witch, pointing at Evelyn.

"Ah, yes, that would be miss Evelyn Floyd," Slughorn replied. "Talented young witch."

"They seem to get along well. Ah, yes. I'll take a glass thank you," commented the witch as she took a glass of butterbeer from a floating tray.

Before anymore of the conversation between Slughorn and the ministry witch could be heard, however, the memory dissolved again into nothingness.


End file.
